


Spark

by greyhorizon



Series: Tommmmyy!-verse [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 14:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12083304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyhorizon/pseuds/greyhorizon
Summary: Final, final story of the elements series. Yep, well aware I said that last time. Because we've run out of natural elements, I'm going with electricity for this one. Some loved-up Felicity and Oliver, some get-it-together-already Tommy and Thea. And an ol' favourite character from the Angel series, Gwen Raiden, just to juice it all up a little.





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely peeps. Yes, once again my technology has failed me and the last episode of this season of Queen of the South is refusing to play. I am a grown woman sticking out my lower lip right now. Fine, universe, fine! *shakes fist at thwarted procrastination attempt*. Anyhoo, as always, hope you enjoy - Grey

Tommy tucked his shirt in nervously, and ran fingers through his dark, wayward fringe. His stomach felt alien - hollow-framed with ice heat. He sucked air through his nose, like he had to remedially breathe.

This was crazy. He couldn't remember feeling these out of body nerves. This loss of self.

'Just fucking do it,' he muttered, reaching an impulsive hand to the doorbell.

He paused, then pressed. The deep chimes irretrievable.

Ensuing seconds passed in captive breath. The front door to the Queen mansion swung open. Raisa.

Tommy blew out a little.

'Mr Tommy. Please, but Mr Oliver is not home.' She opened the door wider, unconsciously indicating he was always welcome.

Tommy gave her a small smile. 'That's okay Raisa. I'm here to see Thea.' 

Raisa stilled at his tone, eyes searching his face. 'Are you okay, Mr Tommy?'

'Yes, Raisa my dear. I'm fine.' He tried to summon Tommy of old, but it wasn't in him. Not tonight. 

He took her hand and pressed the back to his lips, gently, respectfully. 'I'm good, Raisa,' he told her softly. 

Her dark eyes sharpened, recognising the quiet, vulnerable boy she had known. The boy she had made sandwiches for and sat in silence with for hours in the Queen's kitchen in the years after his mother had died, neither of them saying a word.

'Come in.' She led him through the arch of doorway. 'I will call down Miss Thea for you.' 

Reluctantly letting go of his hand, Raisa turned and walked across the foyer, up the wide, wooden staircase, glancing back to see Tommy staring into nothing.

Tommy put his hands in his pockets, and slowly began circling the foyer he had rushed through a thousand times before.

Lamps illuminating prestigious paintings that reminded him of museums. Family photographs in silver frames. Of the Queens. Plenty of Oliver - which made the foyer seem less of a shrine now that he was back from the dead. And of Thea. Brown limbs, huge guileless smiles, mischievousness still managing to sneak through in every picture. And of him. Tommy. The other, adopted member of the Queen family. For as long as he could remember.

An old pain twitched as he recalled the space he had tried to fill when Oliver and Mr Queen had disappeared. Father, brother, son. He knew he had been wanting in all of them.

Footsteps resonated off timber boards, breaking the reverie. Tommy spun to see Thea slowing as she swung on the balustrade, short hair fanning. 'Tommy, what's up? Is everything okay?'

Tommy swallowed and tried to smile, his lips sticking a bit on his front teeth. Damn, I could use a drink, he thought.

'Yep, everything's...good.'

Thea crossed her arms playfully, sauntering towards him in a fitted green dress and bare feet. She looked at him quizzically. 'So then, what do I owe the honour of your visit? Surely, after Gotham, you've seen enough of me for now."

Tommy's eyes widened slightly at her choice of words, mind conjuring the image of her in her underwear in the underground cells where they had been held. He couldn't tell if she was being deliberate or innocent, and he realised his judgement was way too impaired by nerves and a thumping heartbeat to make a call. He just needed to get this over with.

'I was actually just checking in to see how you were. It was a pretty scary thing that happened, you know. And its been a few days.' 

'Thomas Merlyn, you're acting all protective like you care,' Thea teased.

Tommy flummoxed, feeling the banter drift him further away from where he needed to head.

'Thea, of course I care.' Serious. Then silence. Thea's smiled faded.

Tommy lifted his hand and ran it through his hair again. The words weren't coming. He smiled uneasily at her, taking in her brown eyes - now looking at him with concern and confusion.

'Tommy, are you okay?'

Jesus, apparently he was coming across like a trainwreck. First Raisa, now Thea. You should leave, his mind tempted.

'Tommy? You know you can talk to me,' Thea had stilled into the age-old self he had always found unnerving. Her small hand lifted to squeeze his upper arm gently. He felt cemented. And sick to the core.

He looked at her small hand on his arm, and then to her face. And knew he had to.

'Thea...I need to...I have something I need to tell you.' Voice-strangled.

Thea shrugged her shoulders protectively. 'Okay.'

'Look, this is difficult...and I don't quite know how to say it.' He could hear his voice rasp, and tried to clear it.

Thea drew her hand back, worry seeping. 'That's okay Tommy, just tell me.' She caught her breath, 'Is Oliver alright?' Panicked.

'Yeah, yeah!' God, what an asshole, Tommy thought, I've freaked her out. 'Oliver's fine. No, this isn't about him. It's about me.' The words came out reluctantly, like blow darts.

He started moving, unable to keep still. Thea watched him, wary, confused, as he walked to a side table and lifted a frame, staring at the image.

'Do you remember this day, Thea?'

Thea squinted to focus on the photo he held up to her, making out it was the one of the three of them - Oliver, Tommy, and herself - dressed in Halloween costumes back when she was a kid. 

The boys had been teenagers, and had reluctantly taken her trick or treating when her parents were in Hong Kong. It had turned into a wonderful night though, they had joked and pranked and given her all of their lollies, chatting up older sisters and charming the pants off pretty much everyone who had opened a door to them.

She smiled, 'Yes I do. You and Oliver made it so much fun. It was the best Halloween.'

Tommy smiled ruefully, and placed the frame back down carefully. 'It's funny, it's kind of how I've always pictured you. Long plaits, big smile, knobbly knees-'

'I did not have knobbly-' Outraged.

'-my best friends' kid sister.' Tommy finished, inevitability slowing his speech. 'And now I have a problem.'

Thea's smiled faded.

Tommy looked at her from the other side of the foyer. 'Do you know what I'm talking about Thea?' Pleading that she would know, wouldn't make him say it. 

'Tommy?' Thea's brow creased. 'I'm not sure what...'

Tommy sighed. No easy route then. He nodded at himself, self-deprecatingly, and hand through hair, launched in.

'So Thea, the thing is...I have feelings for you.' 

Tommy watched her freeze like prey, and his chest burned. 'It's...I've only kind of realised...recently...and I-' he closed his eyes and opened then slowly, taking in her wide, freaked eyes and crossed arms clutching her shoulders. 

'And I just wanted to let you know. I don't expect anything, I just know things have been kind of off between us lately, and that's all me, not you.' 

He waited for her to say something, anything.

'Seriously Thea-' he took a step toward her. Thea took a step back. Tommy stilled. Mortified. Nightmare taking form.

Thea looked at the ground, head turning sideways, then up to him. 'I'm sorry Tommy. I don't know what to say.' Voice vibrating with shock and something he couldn't discern. Pity? Disgust?

Tommy's gut turned and he swallowed down air to keep from being sick. This was the most selfish thing he'd ever done. He'd ruined everything. Everything the Queens had done for him. He'd violated his relationship with Thea, and betrayed Oliver. Fuck. Nightmare now fully fledged. 

'I am so sorry, Thea.' Tommy grabbed his hair at the scalp. 'Oh fuck.' He looked imploringly at her. She didn't move but he could tell her eyes were welling. "Thea, honey...' She stiffened at his voice. 

The slight jump made Tommy hate himself more. He had totally fucked this. 'Look, I'm just going to go.' He slowly backed to the front door. 'I'm sorry, Thea, I shouldn't have come.'

'Tommy-' she whisphered, at his pain.

'It's okay Thea. I gotta go.' Closing the vast door gently after him.

\----

Tommy pulled his jacket close as he drifted like a ghost down the front steps of the Queen mansion, freezing wind whipping everything in its path, trying to turn everything the wrong way about. 

Tommy stood, willing it to succeed. 

Small, cold droplets of ran hit like darts, causing him to blink and come to to his full suffering. A thunder crack; a lightning stalk; and he found himself in the start of the storm.

The rain came harder, drenching in seconds, so cold that it bypassed cleansing and embraced scalding. He glanced at his blue sports car parked to the side of the mansion. He put his hands into his jacket pockets, and headed stiffly into the wind, the crunch of the stones of the driveway beneath his feet the only man-made sound he could hear.

\----

Thea watched the door close in slow motion. She felt numb, horrible. Completely confused. What had just happened?

She staggered back, her heels hit the bottom step, and she fell to sitting, grabbing the balustrade for support. Replaying the scene to try to make sense of it. Tommy coming here. To tell her he what - liked?, loved? - her. Tommy.

But Tommy wasn't ever serious. 

And she had known him forever. 

He was like her brother. Kinda. 

But he'd always just been around. 

And he was Oliver's. Kinda. 

The look on his face. Oh god, she had done that to him. 

But what the fuck! He comes here, and changes everything. Every solid thing.

Thea felt her hard won adulthood slip away. She had no idea what to do, what to feel. It was all too much. She hated hurting him. It was Tommy. She closed her eyes to let the tears fall. Bowed her head to her knees and let the sobs take her away from thinking.

\----

The storm eased to wind-brushed, erratic droplets as Tommy neared the Starling business district, the eeriness of the occassional car swooshing past, the sidewalk to himself. Coloured lights illuminated from closed shop windows, the world still battened up when all he could feel was bare. Water dripped from every angled surface - his hair, nose, chin.

His feet were numbed cold in squelching shoes. He just wanted to get home, have a warm shower, drink something warmer still, preferably over 100 proof, and just shut himself away. The look on her face - the shock, the pity. He groaned silently as the pain ripped again at his belly. What the fuck had he been thinking?

He turned a corner and faltered, as five heads swung towards him, hooded, unconscious menace taking deliberate form, as as a pack, the men turned and stalked towards him. Adrenaline spiked his self preservation to the fore. Tommy glanced around the deserted street, and then pivoted and began walking back the way he had come. 

The 'hey, do you have a smoke,' was punctuated with a harsh hand gripping his shoulder. Two of the men skipped in front of him to head him off. He scanned both their faces - detected menace in one, and shit-stirring in the other - and stopped. This, was not going to end well. 'What a fuck of a night,' Tommy muttered.

The man behind him let go of Tommy's shoulder and sauntered to stand in front of him, shaved head, long coat obscuring whatever weapon he held in his other hand. Tommy felt a shot of fear, but hooked eye contact and didn't blink. 

'I said, do you have a smoke?'

Tommy shrugged. 'Sorry man, I don't smoke.'

The overcoated leader smiled slowly. 'That's a shame. I don't suppose there's anything else you can give us?'

'Like?'

'Oh, I dont' know. Like your watch - that looks like it's worth a bit. Or your wallet? Or even better. How about we walk over to that ATM and you take us out some cash.' He nodded towards the lit-square of a Starling citibank terminal.

Tommy sighed, then laughed harshly at his night. 'Okay. Alright. Let's go.' Bumping past shoulders, he stepped onto the silent road and headed to the ATM.

He pulled his soaked leather wallet from his black jacket pocket and attempted to pinch out his card with frozen fingers. On his third attempt, it pulled free, as the men stood around him, taunting energy, barriering.

Tommy looked at the platinum card in his hand, then at the ATM, and then towards the leader looming at his left, baseball bat now swinging loosely in his hand.

A perverse instinct sprang forth. Tommy wanted the pain. Anything to distract, to punish, to feel other.

Tommy smiled, pushed the card back into his wallet, and tucked it into the pocket fold of his jacket.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' The bat swinging up into batter position. 

Tommy shrugged. 'Not giving you what you want. Or maybe, I'm giving you what you wanted all along. The opportunity to kick the shit out of some rich prick.'

The other men laughed and jostled with hostile excitement. The leader looked at Tommy and grew still.

'You know, you just might be right.' And swung the bat hard into Tommy's side, the wood thwacking against arm and ribs. Tommy grunted in pain, arching inwards to try and escape it. His breath staying away. He didn't see the bat come down again; the first hint was excrutiating pain and his knee giving way, his body dropping to the wet pavement. His view was of perpendicular legs surrounding him - acid wash, black jeans, one pair in camos. Tommy sucked breath shakily against the pain, bracing for the worse to come.

The air hummed. Static climbed over his skin. One of his attackers yelled in pain and toppled over him, landing next to his face. Tommy looked at the man and saw he was unconscious.

'Stay away bitch!' The warning chased by a throaty female laugh. 'I said, stay-'

This time Tommy could smell something like - smoke? - and saw another body fall.

He turned gingerly, as a dark-haired woman in red leather reached out and grabbed the arm of one man and touched the chest of another. They froze, and collapsed in succession. 

The leader backed up the street; bat poised and swaying like a cobra.

'Who the fuck are you?' he spat.

'Oh, you don't have to worry about little ol' me.' The woman smiled and took a step over one of the men, heeled boots splashing a puddle. 'You should really worry about yourself.' She glanced down at Tommy's incredulous face and winked. 

Raising a hand, blue electricity danced around her fingers. 'You know, water, and what I have, don't mix that well.' Not taking her eyes off the bat-man, she crouched to the ground and touched the wide, street-lamp-lit puddle at her feet. Tommy saw the man stiffen and shake, currents of electricity hitting the same pool of water he was standing in, fifteen feet away. The smell of smoke reached Tommy again; dispersing swiftly in the after-rain air.

The young woman rose back up to standing and turned, surveying her work. Her attention rested on Tommy, still on the ground, one arm holding his side.

'Hi. I'm Gwen. I'll be your rescuer this evening.'

Tommy looked up at her with raised eyebrows. 'Tommy,' hoarse with pain. 'Um...thank you?'

Gwen smiled, confidence vying with sass. 'You're welcome.' She pulled a long, black glove on her right hand as she spoke. 'Don't worry, they're not dead, just unconscious. And probably a little unhappy when they wake up. We should maybe get out of here.'

Tommy smiled ruefully. 'Yeah. Good point.' He grimaced as he moved his weight to try to get up. 

Gwen offered him a gloved hand. He eyed it apprehensively, then looked up at her smirking face.

'It only hurts if I touch you with my skin, sparky.'

'Oh. Right.' Tommy took her hand and clumsily hauled himself up, hopping on his good leg until he could put some tentative weight on his injured knee. 'About that. What was that?' Standing, gaining his balance, he towered over her. Gwen looked up at him. Assessing.

She raised her non-gloved hand, and the blue sparks weaved and faded. 'Electricity.' She watched for his response. Tommy's brow creased in wonder. 'Okay.'

Gwen smiled, and pulled on her other glove, wriggling her fingers into the ends. 'Well, Tommy. It's been real.' 

Tommy hopped and held out a hand, 'Hey, wait. I want to thank you. I mean properly. Can I- buy you lunch? Buy you a car?'

Gwen burst out a laugh. 'A car? Really? Jesus, who the hell did I just save? Bruce Wayne?'

Tommy's face broke into an irrepressible grin. 'Trust me, Bruce wishes he were me.' His laugh shot pain into his ribs. He clenched his arm into his side. 'Well, maybe not right now, but usually.'

Gwen shook her head, smiling. 'Tommy, you're very charming. And cute. And obviously rich. But I don't really do, ah, human contact that much.' Re-wriggling her fingers.

Tommy stilled, glimpsing her mask.

'Well then, Gwen. A platonic thank you lunch is still on offer. Anytime. Tommy Merlyn. You can find me in the big building around the corner with my father's name on it.'

Gwen smiled and nodded a beat. 'Thank you Tommy. I may see you around.'

As she walked away, long curly brown hair swinging against the curve of her red-clad back, Tommy realised it was the first time in weeks he'd had a Thea-thought-free minute.


End file.
